by Nina West
Henry doesn’t allow my focus to stray for too long though. He stands. I watch with nervous excitement as he coats his rigid length with more lube and then strokes himself to spread it around.
“This table is the perfect height,” he murmurs, his eyes flickering from my face to his target as he rubs the tip of his cock back and forth over the tight spot several times. “It’s almost like you built it for this very purpose.”
“I am a forward thinker.” He smiles, his fingers spreading my cheeks apart. “Relax your muscles. Take a breath.”
And then he begins sinking into me.
There’s so much lubricant on the both of us that my body accepts him much faster than the last time. Still, I wince against the burn, and I find myself wondering how much I could really have enjoyed it. Maybe I was just caught up in the moment.
“Look at me.”
Henry settles his thumb on my clit to draw smooth, slow circles around it as his hips rock back and forth, subtly inching in a little deeper each time.
“Do you really enjoy this?” I ask between panted breaths.
He fixes me with an even stare. “I love it. And you will, too. But I need you to relax your muscles and let me in.”
“Can you take your shirt off?”
He smirks. “It’s a bit cold, Abbi.”
“I want to see your body.”
Without another word, he reaches over his head to yank off his long-sleeved black shirt.
I focus on his chiseled upper body for the next few minutes as he maintains his slow pace of inching in and out of me, picturing my tongue twirling around his hard nipples, or dragging along that dark line of hair below his belly button. And I try not to flex my muscles.
“How much farther?” I feel like I might split apart.
“Almost there,” he whispers through gritted teeth, his eyes dark and full of desire as they watch where we’re joined. He slides his hands over my inner thighs, pushing my legs apart farther.
“You’re so deep,” I whisper through a pant. He was right. This is so much more intense than the last time.
He reaches for the lube.
“Don’t we have enough?” I exclaim with a laugh as he squeezes more over me. I feel it dripping along my slit and down farther.
“There’s no such thing as too much lube. Touch yourself for me.”
I don’t hesitate when he asks me to do that anymore. I slip a hand between my legs. My fingers slide easily over my swollen mound and clit.
He begins gently thrusting in and out of me without warning. My hand momentarily stalls with the sting. I bite my lip, trying to keep myself from crying out.
“Don’t, Abbi. I want to hear you,” he demands. A thin sheen of sweat has formed across his muscular chest.
“But someone else might hear.”
“Good. Let them.”
“What happened to keeping your private life private?”
“Apparently some of my employees think I can’t satisfy my woman. Keep going, Abbi.”
Around and around my fingers go, slipping and sliding over my clit, along my slit, dipping in every so often. The burn has subsided and my body is finally loosening up for him. He must feel it too, because he starts thrusting harder into me.
“Oh, God. Henry!” It’s getting harder to remain quiet, my lips parting and letting small moans and cries slip out unbidden.
He tips his head back as he pumps, giving me a great view of his jagged Adam’s apple.
This cedar table is far from comfortable, even with Henry’s jacket offering some cushion for my head, and yet all I can think about right now is what he’s doing to me.
“You are so damn perfect. So fucking tight, Abbi,” Henry moans. I sense my body producing its own lubricant now as my muscles welcome his intrusion, and my nerves buzz with heady anticipation.
“Harder,” I whisper, my stomach and thigh muscles tensing as I start to meet each thrust.
Henry slams his cock into my ass. “You should see yourself right now.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “I don’t know if I could handle it.”
“You could. You’d love it. Here.” He slows long enough to dig my phone out of the pocket of my jacket. Swiping the camera on, he aims it between my legs. He adjusts his stance and begins pounding into me again while recording it.
I suck in a breath as my muscles begin tightening around him, as my clit begins throbbing, as the urge to spread my legs as far as possible takes over.
“So you like having a camera on your pussy.” Henry chuckles darkly. “Good to know. Here, watch this.” He hands me my phone.
I gasp as I watch his beautiful swollen cock filling my ass, my slickened body stretching around it, accepting him, with each of his thrusts. The video is only fifteen seconds but watching it while he’s still fucking me there is all it takes for the familiar telltale tingle to begin in the base of my spine.
“I’m coming,” I pant, pressing my palms against the table as if to brace myself, my focus now on the low cedar ceiling above.
I cry out as Henry pushes his fingers deep into my pussy again.
He presses down inside me, against the back of my muscle wall. I can feel his cock stroke the other side.
He picks up the pace of his thrusts. “Abbi,” he forces out between gritted teeth.
The first wave explodes through my lower belly and down my thighs. I cry out and still my hips as the sensation flows up my spine, as my muscles pulse around Henry, squeezing against both his cock and his fingers.
“Fuck!” He follows immediately, a deep groan tearing from his lungs, his one hand gripping my ass cheek tightly, his pulsing length working against my muscles to drive me insane. I can feel warmth as his seed flows into me. “Christ, Abbi.” He slides his hand out of me, his heavy body falls on top of me. My legs are like Jell-O, splayed to either side.
We lay like that for several long moments, our pants filling the silent night.
“So, was the toolshed as good as you imagined it would be?” I whisper.
“Better. Way better. I didn’t have a bottle of lube in my version,” he murmurs, earning my giggle.
“I need a shower now. I’m covered in it. I’m all slimy.”
He nuzzles his face into my neck and presses a kiss against my throat. “I’ll draw you a bath when we get back. I think certain parts of you are going to need it. I was pretty hard on you.”
My body clenches around his cock, still deep inside me. “I liked it,” I admit shyly. “Especially that last part, when you added your hand.”
“I had a feeling you would.”
I rope my arms around his naked, hot upper body. “I love everything you do for me.”
He lifts himself just far enough to gaze into my eyes. “And I love that you’re so agreeable with everything I want to do for you.”
“I love you.” I reach up to play with the ends of his brown hair. “But can you please get your dick out of my ass? It’s a little uncomfortable now.”
He chuckles. “Sure. Give me a minute.” Very slowly and with care, he slides himself out of me.
We dress quickly, the cold creeping over our damp, flushed skin.
“What about this?” I hold up the almost empty bottle of lube.
He smoothly takes it from my hand. “Probably shouldn’t leave it in here. I’ll pitch it on the way.”
He slides the hammer from the handle and we head out. Three figures linger on the main path, only twenty feet away. Connor and the willowy brunette from earlier stand by the lamppost. The brunette’s eyes widen when she sees Henry. Connor’s face has been taken over by a smug grin.
Ronan is near the trash can. He’s his usual cool self, a lit cigarette in his hand, even though he knows he’s not allowed to be smoking along the paths or other main staff areas. His dark, knowing gaze is on us.
They had to have heard us.
Looping his arm around my waist, Henry leads me past them calmly, as if he doesn’t give a shit. He slows just long e
nough to press the bottle of lube into Ronan’s free hand. “Should be a little bit left for you,” he murmurs with a smile, just loud enough for Ronan and me to hear. We continue on.
I glance back to see Ronan studying the bottle of lube in his hand. Then, with a shake of his head and a small smile, he dumps it into the trash bin.
~ ~ ~
“When are you meeting with the engineers?” Morning sun streams through the cracks in the blackout curtains where we didn’t fully draw them, allowing me just enough light to study his nipples, hardened by my mischievous fingertips.
“I’m not.”
I frown. “Really? I thought they were here today, too.”
“They are. But they don’t need me there to tell them how to do their jobs,” he murmurs sleepily, his voice deep and scratchy.
“Since when do you not tell people how to do their jobs?” I press a kiss against his hot, clean skin. It smells of the mint-scented soap from the bath we took together last night.
“So you’re in one of those moods this morning.” He rolls into me, curling is arm around my body to fold me into him. I feel so small when I’m up against him like this. “Since this know-it-all redhead came in to my life and disrupted things.” He drags his tongue over the seam of my lips. “Speaking of telling people how to do their jobs, it sounds like Nailed It has all the back end work done for online ordering.”
“Yes, I saw that email.”
“You need to meet with them next week to make some decisions. Once they get the production running, you can start selling.”
“I know. How’d they get everything ready so fast, anyway? I mean, the regulatory stuff alone can take months.”
“It’s amazing what an impatient tyrant with a pool full of money can accomplish.” Humor laces his words.
“Henry....”
“Don’t tell me not to be demanding on your behalf. I’ll never listen.” His strong, warm hand smooths over my spine.
“But you realize that you’re putting all this money and effort into something so small.”
“You are getting every advantage. If it stays small, it’s because you wanted it to. Is that what you want?”
“I don’t know. But —”
“Have more faith in yourself, Abbi.”
I burrow in closer to him, curling my thigh around his. “So, what are we going to do today then?”
“Besides this?”
“You can’t lay in bed all day. You’re not capable. Your head would explode.” This guy always has pressing matters.
He pulls my thigh the rest of the way around his hip and rolls onto his back. I end up lying on top of him, straddling him, his hard cock nestled between my thighs perfectly.
Instinctively I begin rubbing myself along him, earning a sound of contentment deep within his chest.
“I figured we could grab a nice meal in Lux later.” He matches my movement.
“I’d like that.”
His finger slides down my spine again, this time continuing farther, down between my cheeks. “How are you this morning?”
“A little sore,” I admit. “But not in a bad way.” In the way that I love, where I can still feel Henry deep inside me, hours later.
Seizing my hips, he re-angles my pelvis and expertly pushes into me. “Sit up.”
I do as requested, letting the covers fall away from us.
He’s just close enough that he can reach the light. He switches it on, filling the room with soft light. His sleepy eyes, now a dark heated blue, settle on my full, heavy breasts as I languidly ride him, watching them sway with each roll.
“God, Abbi....” He moans softly, covering his eyes with the palms of his hands momentarily.
“What’s wrong?”
Suddenly he’s sitting upright, having pulled himself up with an impressive layer of muscle across his stomach. “Nothing’s wrong.” One hand curves around the back of my skull, the fingers of one hand weaving through mine while the other hand settles on my tailbone, pushing my body flush with his. “Everything is fucking perfect. You are perfect for me. How are you so perfect for me?”
It must be a rhetorical question, because his mouth closes over mine before I can answer, and doesn’t leave until long after he has come inside me.
~ ~ ~
“I’ve never tried lobster,” I admit.
“Then have the lobster.”
“But what if I don’t like it?”
“Then order something else.” He says it like that’s what everyone else would do.
When I pause over the menu again, hesitating, he tells the waiter, “She’ll have the lobster tails and possibly something else after. I’ll have the T-bone, rare.”
“Yes, sir. Cedric will be here momentarily to help you with your wine selection.” The waiter nods politely to me before swiftly moving away.
I let my eyes roll over the interior of Lux. The place is only half-full, its patrons sitting at round tables with expensive white linens and dancing tapered candles. I’ve been here a few times before, but not in a while, and always as Henry’s assistant, fetching things for him or taking notes. “I could never appreciate how nice it is in here. Not from this viewpoint anyway.”
“You mean as a guest?”
“Yes.”
Henry unfolds his napkin and sets it on his lap. I follow suit. “Get used to it. You’re going to see places like this, and nicer than this.” He reaches across the table to weave his fingers through mine. “I’m going to give you the world, Abigail Mitchell.”
You already have, I feel like saying. “I don’t need the world, Henry. I just need you.”
Crystal-blue eyes settle on me, studying me for a long moment. “Well, you have me.” A small smirk curls his lips. “Bad temper and all.”
I shrug playfully. “You’re not so bad.”
“No?”
“No. Not when I know how to ease that temper.”
His brow lifts a touch. “And how is that?”
I kick off my heel and, stretching my leg out, I slide my foot in between his thighs and begin rubbing. He parts his legs a touch more, giving me access. I feel him hardening against my toes. “See?”
He smiles. “But I wasn’t in a bad mood to begin with.”
I decide now’s as good a time as any. “Why didn’t you tell me that your birthday is tomorrow?”
The smile sours as his gaze wanders. “I guess I’ll need a new assistant after all,” he mutters dryly.
“Don’t blame Miles. I asked him to tell me. Something I shouldn’t have had to do.”
“You’ve never told me when yours is.”
“I don’t have to. I’m sure you already—”
“March 3.”
I roll my eyes at him. “See?”
“It’s a regular day for me. I have my meetings at the gold mine.” He takes a long sip of his ice water. “Birthdays have never been a big deal in our family.”
“Never?” Even Mama, for all she is, always made sure everyone and their dog knew it was my happy birthday.
“My grandmother always made sure we had a cake.” He smiles wistfully. “The woman had all the money in the world to buy one and yet she’d always take the time to bake it. She used those boxed mixes, too. They were the best. After she died... it’s just any other day.”
“That’s sad.”
“That was my world.”
“Well, not anymore it’s not. So what do you want?”
“Your mouth around my cock,” he says without missing a beat.
“Henry!” I glare at him and flush, searching the two tables within hearing distance. Words like “cock” tend to grab attention. Thankfully, no one is glancing our way. With a rub of my foot, I murmur, “Well, that can easily be arranged. But what else do you want?”
He sighs heavily. “Nothing. I’m in Alaska with you. It’s all I could ask for right now. Seriously.” He slides a hand under the table to grasp my foot and start massaging it. “And you have to stop or we’re going to hav
e a real problem when I get up to leave.”
Cedric the sommelier appears next to our table then, ending any playful banter I could have thrown back.
~ ~ ~
I pull my jacket tight against myself as I follow Henry along the dock toward his fishing boat, our footfalls making a hollow sound against the boards. “Are you sure it isn’t too late for a boat ride?”
“We’re not going far. Just out into the bay.”
“Good, because I didn’t take my Antivert.” The last time I was on this boat, when Hachiro was here to take photographs of Henry for a magazine, I had to lie down below deck to keep from puking.
“It’s good to go?” Henry asks a guy who I’ve seen working around the dock before.
“Engine’s been warming for a bit. Sounds smooth.”
“Thanks, Ken.” They clasp hands, and then Henry’s helping me aboard. Ken unfastens the ropes and we’re pulling away slowly, Henry at the wheel.
“What’s all this?” I ask, peering over at the pile of blankets sitting in the center of the deck. Two of those tall electric heaters sit on either side, the glowing red telling me that they’re on and pumping out heat.
“Lie down. Get comfortable” is his only answer.
To my pleasant surprise, I find a rollaway mattress and a sleeping bag buried beneath the other covers. Kicking off my shoes, I slide into the bag, happy to have changed into sweatpants and a sweatshirt for comfort. “It’s warm in here.”
“That’s the point.” Henry’s chuckle carries over the low rumble of the boat engine. “I’ll be there in few minutes.”
I rest my head against one of the pillows and settle my gaze on the sky above us, and the thick blanket of stars. “I used to lie under the stars with Jed when we were kids,” I murmur. “We’d make up stupid names for constellations. The only ones we ever got right were the dippers.”
“Did the sky down there look like it does up here?”
“No. Nothing is as pretty as it is up here,” I admit with a smile.
Henry shuts the engine about ten minutes later. The plunk of the anchor sounds as it drops into the dark water. I sit up long enough to see that he’s parked us in a small cove, the closest light from a cabin at least half a mile away.